Abstinence Makes The Heart Grow... Whatever

Unfortunately for us all, January is happening. It's cold. It's wet. And it's unavoidable. But in the aftermath of Christmas, there's an opportunity to do some good. January is all about resolutions and making yourself a better person - until two weeks in when you cave, sack off the gym membership and inhale a large Domino's before crying into your pillow about how awful 2014 really is.

One of the vices I've not mentioned in that capitulation is alcohol. And for good reason.

Over the last week, while I avoid the gym until the New Year's resolutioners give up, I've noticed a lot of people signing up to become 'dryathletes' as part of a fundraising campaign by Cancer Research UK. The drive has reportedly raised £4million already and has 35,000 people signed up. Take that, cancer, you swine.

I'm all for fundraising and bringing a little light into the world, and I'll be donating to Cancer Research this January. But, here's the rub: I won't be doing it through a 'dryathlete' (trademarked, no less).

Cancer Research have picked up on a really clever source for fundraising. Lots of people try and go dry in January to save their money and their liver, so why not encourage people to help charity at the same time. But it seems ridiculous to me that mass abstinence from booze is what we should sponsor people for. The last time I heard of 'sponsors' related to alcohol, they were former alcoholics helping others through AA meetings.

Fundraising, in my opinion, is generally reserved for challenges. Bake sales and Red Nose Day aside, aren't we supposed to put ourselves through some kind of torture (exercise and gravity spring to mind) to get people to put their hand in their pockets?

Essentially, a dryathlon is not putting a bottle of *insert poison of choice here* for 31 days. Yet my Facebook feed tells me that it's going to be extremely difficult for my friends to ever get through it. Simply impossible. Derisible, even. Sod the New Year Honours list, these people are to be commended.

Are my friends alcoholics, I wonder? Will I need to be at their bedsides as they reach the final days of January? Let's hope not.

Give to Cancer Research, folks, but don't tell me a dryathlon is hard.